Hope in the Darkness
by trispinwinchester
Summary: Sam is still having visions. Meanwhile the brothers are trying to get rid of an angry spirit.
1. Chapter 1

The night air was crisp and cold. Shadows flung by the full moon danced as the wind blew softly through the trees. The pale blue light just barely illuminated the small clearing with a run-down shack at the edge, but he could see clearly enough to be scared. Dean slowly raised his hands above his head.

"Look. Why don't you put the gun down and we can talk about this?"

"No!" the man shouted as he continued to point the gun at Sam, the moonlight glinting off the barrel. "I saw what he did. He shot my little girl!"

"But sir," Dean pleaded, inching closer to him. "All Sam shot was her spirit! Your little girl is dead." But the man was too far gone.

"No!" he yelled again, and pulled the trigger. Sam heard the shot and closed his eyes. But there was no pain. He looked up, and horror filled his heart. Dean stood directly between him and the man. Surprise flitted across his face as he looked at the growing red spot on his chest. He looked up.

"Sammy." he whispered, and crumpled to the ground.

"NO!" Sam heard himself scream and he tried to run, to get to his brother but he couldn't move and all he could see was a pool of his brothers blood slowly getting bigger...

~s~

"NO!" Sam shot straight up in bed, his shaggy hair plastered to his forehead and his shirt soaked with sweat. Sunlight streamed in the hotels dirty windows, and through them he could see the rolling green hills of Georgia. Moaning, he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. They felt like someone had poured sand into them. He had gone to bed early last night, but he certainly didn't feel rested. He wished will all his heart that he could pretend that what he just woke up from was merely a nightmare, but he knew better. Lately he had been having dreams or visions that had turned out later to be premonitions of something that was going to happen in the future. It had only happened a few times, but he knew the difference between a regular dream and one of these. Untangling his long legs from the sheets and heading toward the bathroom, he noticed Dean wasn't in his double bed next to Sams. In a way, he was glad Dean wasn't there, as he didn't want to talk to him about his dream. At least, not yet. He splashed water on his face and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His green eyes had huge dark circles under them. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, and what he did get was disturbed by nightmares. To tell the truth, he was starting to get scared. He didn't know what was happening to him. And although he hid it, Sam knew Dean was worried about him too.

"Honey, I'm home!" Sam heard the door click close and Deans footsteps in the room. Quickly he scrubbed the water off his face and walked out.

"Hey Dean." he said. "Where did you go?" Dean dropped into the only chair in the room and grinned.

"Well, while you were getting your beauty sleep, I was working. And look what I found." He held up a newspaper. "It says here that there has been three suicides in a county near here. Each of the people were described by others as insane before they killed themselves." Sam ran a hand through his hair.

"Dean, it just sounds like those people killed themselves, that's it."

"You might think that, but get this!" Dean stood up and showed the paper to Sam. "All three of these people were in government jobs. You have to take a psychological evaluation every month to keep your job. All were declared to be totally sane."

"Still..." Sam started.

"AND," Dean interrupted, "Each one of them lived in the same apartment building! Come on dude, do you think that three people from the same building are just going to happen to go insane at the same time?" Sam still wasn't totally convinced, but he knew his brother was getting restless. They hadn't had a job in about a week, and to tell the truth, Sam was tired of sitting around too. Besides, there wasn't an apartment building in his dream, so maybe they would be safe on this job. Or as close to safe as they ever got.

"Okay Dean." he said as he started to grab his few belongings and stuff them into his bag. "What are we waiting for? Let's go check this out!"

~s~

The Impala's engine purred as Dean pulled it up to the curb. He almost hated to shut her off. His dad had given Dean this car when he turned 18, and right now it was all the brothers had left of him. He was gone, hunting the demon that had killed their mom, and he wasn't telling his sons where he was. Dean was okay with that for now, but he knew Sam was struggling with it. Just as he was struggling with his visions, or whatever you wanted to call them. He was hiding it pretty well, but Dean knew his brother, and he could tell he was scared. Not that he would ever admit it to Sam, but deep down, he was scared too. Scared that this was something he couldn't control, scared that no matter how hard he tried, maybe this time he couldn't protect his little brother. The impala's squeaking door snapped him out of his reverie.

"So this is the place?" Sam asked as he unfolded his tall frame from the passenger seat.

"Yup." Dean replied. He opened his door and hopped out. "This is it." They both looked at the building. It certainly wasn't what Dean was expecting. The "apartment building" was an old white Victorian house with three floors. It stood in the suburbs of the town, and was surrounded by a short wall of shrubbery that separated it from its neighbors.

"This doesn't look like an apartment building." Sammy observed.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." Dean smirked. The gravel crunched under their feet as they made their way up the walk and onto the large, airy, wrap-around porch.

"Well...if we had to do a job somewhere, this is as nice as a place as any!" Dean grinned as he raised his hand to knock. Sam didn't respond. He was gazing around worriedly, his eyes scanning the area around the house. Dean nudged him with his shoulder. "Hello! Earth to Sammy!" he said. Then he looked at him a little closer, and for the first time that day noticed the dark lines under his little brothers eyes. "Hey," he said, suddenly concerned. "Are you okay?" Sam snapped out of his daydream and looked at him.

"Yeah." he shrugged, plastering a fake smile on his face, "I'm fine." Dean pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. He always knew when Sam was lying to him and he was going to get to the bottom if it. But just at that second, the door in front of them opened. The man who opened it couldn't have been older than forty, but suspicion and sadness, and buried deep, fear had changed his face to that of an older man. Dean knew this face. He had seen it on too many people over the course of his life. People scared and shattered by things they didn't know about or believe in. It was people like this that reminded Dean why they did the job they did. For them.

"What do you want?" The man said, trying to sound friendly, but both brothers could hear the tone of fear underneath. "Are you more police? Look, I already told you all I know!"

"Sir! We aren't police! We just want to talk."

"I've talked to enough reporters" the man snorted, and proceeded to shut the door. Dean thrust his foot in between the door and the jamb before the man shut it completely

"Hey! We aren't police, we're here to see about renting a room." He and Sam had talked about this earlier, and had decided the best way to investigate was by staying in the place itself. The man looked suspiciously at them.

"Not that I couldn't use renters...but haven't you boys heard what had happened lately?"

"Not really." Dean lied. They had talked about this earlier too. If they acted innocent, people we more likely to talk. The man sighed.

"We can talk about everything more comfortably inside." He opened the door and gestured for them to come in. "I'm Andy, by the way." Dean stuck out his hand.

"I'm Dean and this is my brother, Sammy." Sam shook Andy's hand.

"Its Sam." Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and stuck his hands into his pockets.

"So Andy." he began brightly, "what's been happening?" Again Andy sighed and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

"I guess I should tell you boys before you decide to get a room here." He bit his lip and his eyes shifted around the room, looking anywhere but the two brothers in front of him.

"Andy?" Sam prompted.

"Three people committed suicide in this building this month." Andy looked up, his face strained. "I need the money, but I just thought it fair to tell you. In case the police come back or anything." Dean looked at Sam, impressed. Honesty was hard to come by these days, and Dean immediately liked Andy.

"Whoa!" Dean pretended to be surprised. "Well, its not like they were murdered. Sometimes you can't save everyone." Andy looked uncomfortable. Sam gave him a concerned look.

"Andy? is something wrong?"

"I don't know why I'm telling you boys this." Andy pursed his lips. "But...there were some strange things going on before all of this." Dean raised his eyebrow.

"Strange things? Like what?"

"Well...things like a few days before everything, the tenants were complaining of banging and thumping noises in the wall. I thought it was the plumbing, but I had it checked out...nothing was wrong." He sighed. "Somedays I think I'm going crazy." Dean shot Sam a smug look. This was definitely starting to look like their kind of job.

~s~

"Haha! What did I tell you Sammy?" Dean dropped his duffle bag on the floor and turned to grin at his brother. "I knew there was more to this then a couple'a suicides!"

"Okay Dean!" Sam snapped at him. "You were right, for once. Just let it rest, okay?" Dean looked surprised and a little hurt at his outburst and Sam sighed. He didn't mean to yell at Dean, but after almost no sleep last night, filling out the paperwork for the room, and his brothers gloating, he had enough. He sprawled his large frame into one of the two chairs in the small living room and began massaging his eyes with his fingertips. "Sorry Dean." he mumbled. "I've just got a bad headache, thats all." He stopped and looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Dean stood in front of him, a worried look on his face.

"Sammy, are you alright? Are you feeling sick?" Sam forced a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Taking a step back, Dean gazed critically at him.

"You don't look fine. You look like you haven't slept in a week!" A look of comprehension dawned on his face and he narrowed his eyes. "Sam, have you been having more dreams and not telling me?"

"No!" Sam hopped out of the chair and turned his back on him. "I just have a headache, thats all." He couldn't tell Dean about the vision, not yet. He himself could hardly think about it. In his vision, Dean had jumped in front of a bullet for him. There was no way he was going to tell Dean that! He wasn't going to tell Dean that he was essentially the cause of his death. Not yet, anyway. He knew he could change the vision, just like he did with Max. He had too. Dean glared at him a moment more, then turned and grabbed the impala keys from where he had dropped them on the small table.

"Fine" he said. "I'm gonna go do some research on this place." Sam started to go with him, but Dean held up a hand. "Nope, you're staying here. Get some rest. There's no way I want a grouch around tonight if we are gonna be digging up some poor persons grave." Sam eyed him suspiciously.

"Wait. You're going to go do some research? As in, go to the library and look at old newspapers, research?" Dean gave him a look of mock hurt.

"Sammy! You weren't always around, remember? When Dad and I were hunting, it was usually me who had to do the research. Man did that suck! You know, I always knew there was some reason I missed you when you were at college. Other than your beautiful face, of course." Sam gave him a "bite me" look. Dean continued. "'Sides, right now all the people we could talk to right now are at work." Swayed, Sam reluctantly agreed.

"Okay." he said. He didn't really want to let Dean out of his sight right now, but a nap sure did sound good. "Just be careful." Dean spread his arms out and grinned. "Dude! You really must be beat. What could happen to me at a library?"

~s~

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Dean lost his grin and scowled. He knew Sam was hiding something.

"Damn him!" he muttered under his breath as he trudged down the stairs. His and Sam's room was on the second floor of the house. The entire place was made up of six separate small apartments. There were three on the bottom floor, who on the second and the one on the top was where the landlord lived. Currently, besides the Winchesters and Andy, there was only one other person living there. The others either were the victims of whateveritwas or had left afterwards. Dean shook his head as he walked past the doors with the police tape still on them. He knew it would be useless to even take a look in those rooms after the police had their fingers all over it. But Dean did know that weren't merely dealing with multiple suicides, but with something far more supernatural. Earlier while Sam was filling out the paperwork for the room, Dena had casually sauntered over near one of the doors and turned on his EMF detector. It had lit up like a christmas tree. That in itself had worried him. EMF deteriorated rather quickly, and it was two days since the last "suicide." Whatever was killing these people, it was strong. Dean shook his head. Just standing around here isn't gonna help. he thought as he jogged out to the Impala.

As he drove toward the small library in town, his mind drifted back to Sam. Why was he hiding something? He was sure it had to do with his visions, but he didn't know what. Couldn't Sam see that this was not just his problem? This affected both of them. Sam was his brother, and if he didn't tell Dean when there was something wrong, how could he help? How could he do his job? All his life Dean had looked out for Sammy, and he certainly wasn't going to stop now. He nodded to himself as he pulled up to the library. No matter what, when he got back he was gonna make Sam tell him what was wrong. And no puppy-dog look was gonna get him out of it.

Dean strode into the library and frowned. Behind the desk was a librarian that had to have been born during the Civil War. Dang! he thought. No pretty college intern for him to charm today. Still, he put on his best smile and walked up to the desk.

"Hello" he said. "I'm writing a paper on the history of this town, and I was hoping you could show me where you keep all the records and newspapers and stuff?" The old crone looked up.

"What do you think I'm here for?" She snapped. "Of course I can show you where they are. This way!" She eased out of her seat and gestured for Dean to follow her. Okaaaaay. Dean thought. Hundred years old and a grouch. Just my luck. "Here." Old Crone scowled, pointing at a small room in the back. She glared at him over her glasses. "Don't rip any of the pages and make sure you put them back where you found them, you hear me young man?"

"Yes ma'am!" Dean gulped, his eyes wide. What did I ever you do you? "Excuse me for existing." he mumbled to himself as she hobbled away. Looking into the dark room, he sighed. "Well, time to get to work."

Three hours later he still hadn't found anything useful. He had used the library computers to search for any violent murders in the last century, but all the police files were either not there or classified. So he had gone back to researching the history of Andy's apartment building, but couldn't find a single death tied to the place.

"Damn it!" he swore, then glanced up at Old Crone. She glared back and put a wrinkled finger to her lips. "I'm gonna give you the finger in a second, lady." he muttered to himself. Shaking his head, he looked away. Suddenly, something caught his eye. It was an article in a paper from three years ago. He quickly scanned it and a grin lit up his whole face. "Yes!" he hooted, not caring this time what Old Crone thought. Chuckling to himself, he wrote down what he needed and rushed out, ignoring the old librarians screeching at him to come back and pick up his mess! He hopped into the Impala and gunned the engine. "Wait til I show Sammy this!"


	2. Chapter 2

Shaking hands gripped the coffee cup tightly as Sam slowly sipped the steaming liquid. He usually put sugar in his coffee, but right now he just wanted the caffeine. He was just so tired. He felt tears prick the back of his eyes as he thought back over the last hour. He had done as Dean instructed him. After all, even though he never took naps, today he felt he could use an exception. But the peaceful sleep he sought eluded him. _The night air was crisp and cold. Shadows flung by the full moon danced as the wind blew softly through the trees. The pale blue light just barely illuminated the small clearing, but he could see clearly enough to be scared. Dean slowly raised his hands above his head._ Sam took in a shuddering breath and tried, tried to stop thinking. _"But sir," Dean pleaded, inching closer to him. "All Sam shot was her spirit! Your little girl is dead." But the man was too far gone._

_"No!" he yelled again, and pulled the trigger. _

"No!" Sam yelled and threw the coffee cup against the wall. He could feel his whole body shaking. "No." he whispered to himself as he sunk into the chair, head cradled in his hands. Why did this have to happen to him? Wasn't it bad enough that him and Dean ran around finding and hunting evil things? Why did evil have to find them? It just wasn't fair. He snorted a little, glad that Dean didn't know he thought that. He knew what he would say. Jeez Sammy! You sound like you're five years old! Well, maybe he did, but there were days that the Winchester luck just really sucked.

Slowly straightening, he let out a quivering sigh. He would have to clean up the coffee and make himself look better before Dean showed up. His big brother was very astute when it came to Sam, and he was bound to notice something was bothering him unless he did something about it. He sighed again as he grabbed a towel and began mopping up the coffee on the floor.

In some ways, that was a problem with Dean. He always thought he had to protect Sam from everything. It scared him how far Dean was willing to go to see him safe. He knew Dean would even sacrifice himself for him. Just like in his dream. Growling under his breath, Sam wished somedays he could just strangle his brother. Sam loved Dean with all his heart, but couldn't he see that he could take care of himself? And the protecting thing went both ways? Brothers protected each other. And it frustrated Sam that somedays Dean couldn't seem to see that. Shaking his head, Sam reached into his duffle and pulled out a clean pair of clothes. They would have to do laundry again soon. He headed toward the bathroom, hoping that maybe a hot shower would ease some of the lines under his eyes and some of the heaviness in his heart.

Steam curled out of the bathroom door as Sam stepped out, toweling his shaggy brown hair dry. _That did feel good_! He admitted to himself. Although he still felt slightly tired, some of the tension had eased from between his shoulder blades. A smile smile slid across his face. Maybe he should stop worrying about his dream for now. After all, he hadn't seen anything or person he had observed in his vision. It looked like they were safe for a while. Or at least, as safe as they ever were.

Glancing at the clock, ne noticed it was way past lunch time. In fact, it was almost past supper. He also noticed that Dean had been gone for more than three hours. Probably having a hard time finding anything useful. He chuckled, glad for once that it wasn't him who was staring at endless piles of newspapers and no idea where to start. I'll go ahead and order something for supper. He grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages, looking for the nearest pizza place. Just as he finished ordering a pizza with all the toppings but mushrooms, _(I'm not eating any type of fungus, Sammy!)_ he heard Deans key in the lock. He burst through the door, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Sammy, I got it!" he yelled, waving a scrap of paper around in the air like he had just won a prize. He was already half way toward Sams bedroom before he even saw him sitting at the table. Skidding to a stop, he turned around, his eyes sparkling. "There you are! And you thought I couldn't do research." He shoved a crumpled piece of paper under Sams nose. "Its a haunting like we thought. Listen to this. I got it from a newspaper." He began to read off the paper. "It said that three years ago a person died while they were staying here with their family." Sam sighed and gave Dean a look.

"Dean, you know that a person has to be murdered in order for their spirit to haunt a building." Smirking, Dean countered.

"Would you let me finish?" Sam raised his hands in surrender. He didn't want to argue.

"Fine, go on." Dean continued.

"Anyway, the reason I'm sure this is our ghost is cuz she died under mysterious circumstances." Sam felt all the blood drain out of his face and the tight clench of fear was back in the pit of his stomach. Swallowing, he reached out and grasped Dean by the arm.

"Did...did you say she? It was a female?" _Please please say no..._ Dean gave him a strange look.

"Yeah...it was a young girl, named Anna Peterson." Sam let go of Deans arm and put his head in his hands. He could sense rather than feel Deans confusion and worry for him._ No...I thought I would have more him to fix this..._ Now it was Deans turn to grab Sams arm and give it a little shake.

"Sam, what's wrong? What are you not telling me?" Sam sighed. Dean was using his big brother voice, and he knew he wasn't going get away without telling him everything. Well, who was he fooling? Dean had a right to know sooner or later. Head still in his hands, he began.

"The other night...I had another vision." He felt Dean let go of his arm and heard him pull up a chair next to his.

"Hey Sam, thats okay. Why didn't you tell me?"

Why hadn't he told his brother? Dean was all he had now. But deep down he knew the answer. Pulling his hands away from his face, he looked Dean right in the eyes.

"Because my dream was about you. It was about you dying to save me. And I can't have you doing that, alright? I won't have you dying to save me!" Dean tilted his head to one side.

"Sam. You're..."

"Don't tell me that I am more important than you! Don't say that saving me no matter what is your job! Don't tell me that! Don't you understand? You are just as important as me!" Breathing hard, Sam turned away from his brother. Dean pressed his lips together and stood.

"I wasn't gonna say that Sam. I was gonna say you're my brother. Why would I not die for you? But yeah, now that you mention it, keeping you safe IS my job! And if I have to die to do it, then I will!" Sams eyes flashed. He knew without a doubt that Dean's protectiveness of him had been built into him since they were kids. He had taken on more than the part of just Sams brother, but his mother, protector, and even sometimes, his father too. Bitterly, he knew that somehow it was their fathers fault that Dean always felt the need to save and protect Sam from everything. But that wasn't an excuse. That didn't mean that Sam's life was somehow more important than Dean's.

"Sammy." The softness of Deans voice cut through his rage. "Please try to understand. All my life, ever since...ever since Mom died, it has been my role to look out for you. I mean, yeah, there were time when we were apart, like when you left for Stanford, but I always kept an eye on you. But Sam, now that Dad is gone, you're all I have left. And I can't live without you. I can't. I can't bear to have you leave again. And that is why I would do anything to keep you safe." Sam looked up, completely shocked. He couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. Dean never, never talked about his feelings. It was rule number one in the Winchester handbook of dealing with emotions. In fact Sam was sure if he looked hard enough through his father journal he would find it. Different emotions struggled around in his heart. Sadness, pity, maybe even fear, but he could feel a warm feeling tingling at the bottom of his heart and starting to grow.

"Wow" Dean scoffed, his face bowed to hide his embarrassment. "That was the most chick-flicky moment ever. Sorry bro." But before he could say anything else, Sam grasped his shoulders in a tight grip. He knew what the warm feeling was. Love. Love for his stubborn, hardheaded, annoying, loyal, devoted big brother. Staring intently into Dean face, Sam spoke low and clear around the lump in his throat.

"Dean, I promise, I am never leaving you. But you have to promise me the same, okay? We will figure out this vision and no one is gonna die on me." Dean looked up and gave Sam a small smile.

"Sure Sammy, okay."

~s~

Darkness found the brothers in the town's only graveyard, shovels, rock salt, and shotguns in hand. They had argued at whether Dean should come or not until he had logically pointed out that in the dream it was Sam who had shot the girls spirit, as a result causing the whole thing to happen. And if he was there, and the only one holding the gun, what could go wrong? Sam had reluctantly agreed and that was why he now found himself digging Anna's grave...alone.

Dean stood watch on the side of the tomb, hand on the shotgun, his green eyes scanning the shadowy area intently. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help but chuckle when he glanced down at Sam.

"Come on Sammy. An old lady could dig faster than you! Little rusty after four years of sitting around in classrooms?" Sam huffed and rolled his eyes as he tossed another shovelful of dirt out of the hole.

"I'm not the one sitting around on my butt while his brother does all the work." Dean gave him an innocent look.

"Hey, I'm working! Watching for spirits is very tiring."

"Yeah, whatever." Sam grunted as he thrust his shovel into the ground again. It hit against something hard. "Got something!" he exclaimed and began to uncover the rest of the small coffin. Dean came over and peered in the hole.

"Awesome Sammy. Let's get this over with." Just then Sam looked up, his hazel eyes going wide. Dean felt a freezing chill spill down his spine and knew she was there. He was turning even as Sam was yelling, "behind you!" In a blink he took it all in. Anna's spirit was rushing toward both of them, rage on her face, and Dean wasn't gonna wait around to be her next victim. Finger tightening around the trigger, he squeezed off a shot. The spirit disappeared into the night.

"Hurry it up Sammy!" he shouted as he reloaded. "We don't want her coming back!" Sam had already succeeded in uncovering the rest of the coffin and rapidly began pouring generous amounts of salt on the small corpse. Just as he lit the match, Dean saw a flicker to his right. Turning, he saw Anna. This time he got a good look at her, and confusion fluttered across his face. She wasn't charging them, and her face almost looked...lonely. But before he could do anything, the fire did its work on the corpse. Its mouth open in a silent scream, the apparition flickered and dissipated into the night like whisps of clouds. Sighing with relief, he shook his head to try forget the lonely look on the ghosts young face. He lowered the gun and turned to Sam,

"Glad that's over!" he said, then frowned when he saw the look on Sams face. "What?" Grinning, Sam tossed him a shovel.

"Guess what? You get to fill it in." Groaning, Dean climbed into the hole as Sams relieved laughter followed him down. And Dean smiled too, cuz why not? They had gotten rid of an angry spirit, saved some lives, and apparently he was gonna live to see another day. All in a Winchesters nights work.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Satisfied, Sam sipped his beer and leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face. Normally he wouldn't be at a bar this late at night. Dean called him a sissy, but he would rather be using this time to research their most recent hunt, or finding information about the yellow-eyed Demon. But tonight was different. He couldn't tell why, but he felt relieved and excited. Just as with Max, he had proved his visions weren't set in stone, that he could change them, and it gave him hope. So when Dean had mentioned a bar he wanted to visit, Sam had readily agreed to come along. Maybe it was his relief at their safety, of he was just tired, but he had a few more beers than his usually one. He didn't even realize it until when Dean came up to him after finishing his pool game, there were two of him.

"Hey Sammy, ready to go? Look what I won from those nice gentlemen over there." Dean flashed a stack of bills in front of his face. "Now we have a little extra cash."

"Didja cheat?" Sam slurred. Taken aback, Dean glared at him.

"What? Sam, shut it, will you? You want us to get hurt? 'Sides, I never cheat. I don't need too." He glanced over his shoulder at the men around the pool table and gave a sigh of relief when he saw they weren't paying them any attention. He looked back at Sam, eyebrows pulling together when he saw he was swaying in his seat.

"Sam, are you drunk?" Peering closer at his face Dean exclaimed in surprise. "You ARE drunk!" Giggling, Sam slurred.

"And you're a cheat." Grabbing Sam's arm, Dean hauled him to his feet.

"Okay, that's enough. We're leaving now." Edging his way around the now glaring pool players, Dean half carried, half dragged his drunk brother out the bar door. He got him almost to the Impala before Sam's stomach decided to violently expel his supper onto the ground.

"Okay, that's just gross." Dean groaned as he supported his brothers shaking shoulders. After a few minutes, Sam's heaving stomach seemed to quiet down.

"Hey man, ready to head back now?" Dean asked as Sam wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. He nodded, already knowing what Dean was going to say next.

"And dude, if you puke in my baby, you are so gonna regret it."

~s~

Groaning, Sam rolled over in his bed and instantly regretted it. He could hardly remember last night after the bar. All he recalled was taking the aspirin Dean had handed him and flopping into bed. Now he seriously regretted his drinking last night. He had no idea what had gotten into him. His head felt like someone had used it for batting practice. It was pounding like crazy. In fact, it almost sounded like the pounding was coming from outside. Cracking his eyes open, he realized that someone was banging on the door to their apartment.

Stumbling from his bed, he almost tripped over his shoes on the floor. Recovering, he made it to the front door, but Dean had gotten there first. Dean looked way better then Sam felt. He only had on a pair of sweatpants, and was quickly rubbing the sleep out of his green eyes. He opened the door and both of the brothers widened their eyes in surprise. Well, Sam more squinted in surprise around the gigantic headache pounding through his skull. Standing on the threshold of their apartment were two policemen.

"Officers, is there something wrong?" Dean asked, running a hand through tousled hair, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Yes, there is." Said the first one. "This morning at 9:47 we found the body Andy Lewis, your landlord. It appears he committed suicide." Horrified, the brothers looked at each other.

"Just so you boys know," the officer continued, "we might need your statements later on. For now, you will still be allowed to stay here until we figure out who the house goes to." Right now, housing was the least of their worries. Dean thanked the officers and closed the door. He leaned against it for a moment before turning to Sam.

"Okay, what happened?" Fingers pressed against his aching eyes, Sam stumbled over to the table, popped two aspirin in his mouth and swallowed them dry.

"I don't know, man! I thought we got rid of the spirit."

"We should check for EMF, maybe it really if just a suicide." But when Sam looked up into his brothers bleak gaze, they both knew they didn't believe that. As Dean pulled on a shirt and a pair of jeans, he tossed a glance at Sam.

"You know dude, I just thought of something."

"Don't hurt anything."

"Ha ha. Anyway, don't you usually only have visions when they are somehow connected to the yellowed-eyed Demon?" Troubled, Sam's eyebrows bunched together in thought.

"Yeah….so?" Shrugging, Dean said.

"Well, why do you think you had a dream about this joint in the first place?" Sam sighed and shook his head.

"No idea, man." Dean pressed his lips together in a tight line as he leaned over to grab his EMF detector. What they had first thought was a simple haunting was turning out to be much more complicated. Sam hopped out of the chair he was sitting in and faced Dean. His head felt much better now, and light no longer felt like little daggers stabbing into his eyes.

"I'm gonna go do some more research on this place, okay? Call me if you find anything."

~s~

Dean slid into the booth's bench across from Sam in the small diner. It was the only restaurant for miles around, besides the pizza place just down the road. Earlier he had gone to check for EMF while Sam did more research on his laptop. When he has slipped past the police line blocking the entrance to Andy's room, his detector had gone off like crazy. Just then he had gotten a call from Sam telling him to meet him at the diner because he had found something new.

"So, whatcha got?" Sam looked up from his laptop, eagerness and a little bit of confusion on his face.

"You first." he said. "Did you find any EMF?" Dean grimaced and nodded.

"The detector lit up like a Christmas tree." Sam frowned.

"Thought it might. So here's the deal." he began just as the waitress walked over. Dean ordered his usual, hamburger, home fries and a beer, while Sam just ordered a salad. Giving the waitress an appreciative once-over, Dean earned a glare from Sam.

"Are you ready for me to continue, or do you need more time to ogle the waitress?"

"Sorry, bro." Dean smirked. "At least I try to enjoy myself. Anyway, go on."

"Fine." Sam huffed and looked at his laptop screen. "So I researched the house some more and I couldn't find any more deaths connected to it. However, when I decided to research Anna Peterson, look what I found." Turning his laptop to face Dean, he pointed at the official police report on the local police website. Dean peered at the screen.

"It says six years ago a Susan Peterson was found murdered in a room her and her family were renting." He looked back up at Sam. "Susan Peterson? As in…." Sam nodded.

"Anna Peterson. And look at the address of the place they were renting." Dean looked, and felt his eyes widen.

"It's the same place we are staying at!"

"Yep," Sam confirmed. "And the same place where Anna died."

"Wow." Dean muttered, shaking his head. "Talk about unlucky!" Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their food. It smelled delicious, and they both dug in. Taking a huge bite of his hamburger, Dean asked through a mouth full of food.

"Wehan didtht I see thtih bfure?" Sam gave him a dirty look, and he hurriedly swallowed before trying again.

"Why didn't I find this when I was looking before? I must have looked through thousands of old newspapers." Sam speared a leaf of lettuce while still looking at the computer.

"Well, it says in the police report that the husband asked to have the murder kept out the papers. Apparently Susan Peterson was a pretty well-known psychiatrist, and he didn't want her death spread all over the news." Dean dipped a fry in ketchup before putting it in his mouth. He began to speak until he saw Sam's pointed glare. Quickly swallowing, he said.

"Okay, even if this Susan is the real spirit and is haunting the place, it doesn't explain how she got, or even _why_ she got four people to seemingly commit suicide. She was killed years ago! Why start doing this now?" Sam shrugged, taking a sip of his water.

"I have no idea." He said, closing his laptop. "But it says she was buried in the same graveyard as Anna. I say we head there tonight." Dean sighed and nodded. Pulling out his wallet, he dropped a tip on the table and got up. Sam got up as well. Putting his computer under his arm, he followed Dean out the door.

He didn't say anything to Dean, but he was worried. Before, he had had that vision of Dean getting killed, but nothing had happened. Then, he was sleeping in the same house as a murdering spirit, and he didn't even have the slightest flicker of a dream. It probably hadn't helped things that he had been partly stoned, but it seemed like he would have seen something. He shook his head apprehensively. He was beginning to think this was way bigger than they thought.

TBC


End file.
